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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26004883">Like It's Only Been a Day Since</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/runandgo/pseuds/runandgo'>runandgo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bandom, My Chemical Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Barebacking, Basement Gerard Way, Coming Untouched, Current Frank Iero, Era Swap, Grinding, Light overstimulation, M/M, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Rimming, Spit Kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:07:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26004883</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/runandgo/pseuds/runandgo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You were never, ever bad at this, Gerard,” Frank says bluntly. “I like anything you do because I like you, okay? And if it makes you feel better, I’ll, I don’t know, tell you what I like, but honestly, you don’t have to worry about it. Just let me take care of things. Let me take care of you.”</p><p>His throat dry, Gerard swallows, and he’s leaning in before he even realizes it, Frank’s hand cupping his jaw.</p><p> </p><p>Current Frank and Basement Gerard. *shrug*</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Frank Iero/Gerard Way</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>175</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Like It's Only Been a Day Since</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/balquida/gifts">balquida</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>someone had brainworms of current frank and basement gerard, and then we all contracted a bad case of them. mine specifically manifested into this. thanks to everyone (you know who you are) for sharing your ideas and making more porn possible. this is your fault &lt;3 there is no rhyme or reason to the time travel, so please don't try to work out any logistics, because they do not exist lmao. hope you enjoy this as much as we enjoyed the concept!</p><p>if you're under 18, kindly close out.</p><p>also, as always, please don't post this anywhere anyone involved could potentially see it, tyvm.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I mean, um, you probably remember it,” Gerard says, pushing the door open and standing back to make room for Frank. “But, yeah.” He ruffles his hair, and kind of pulls his shoulder up awkwardly, because he doesn’t know what else to do with his body.</p><p>
Frankie -- <em>Frank</em>, Gerard reminds himself, trying to keep them separated -- walks in, even avoids the piles of shit on the floor like it’s only been a day since he was last here instead of however many years, Gerard didn’t even ask. “Yeah, I remember it. God. This is so surreal. Jesus fuck.” He laughs, and then Gerard sees it in him, the touch of his Frankie, the strung-out kid with the orange hair. 
</p><p>
Other than some moments, it’s almost hard to believe this is him; he’s older, obviously, hair a natural color and long, curling up, with stubble on his cheeks like he actually has to shave every day. He’s got way more tattoos, hardly any bare space on his body, even climbing up from the collar of his t-shirt all the way to his ears, practically, and faded on his fingers, like rings, drawing the eye. And he’s bigger; not taller, but <em>stronger</em>, his arms thick instead of ropy with muscle like the Frank Gerard knows. It makes Gerard shiver, all the way from the tip to the base of his spine, to think of it as he kicks the door shut behind him.
</p><p>
Frank’s avoided the carpet of discarded clothes and made his way to the bed with no problem. He toes his sneakers off onto the floor and folds his knees up, criss-cross-applesauce on the bed, then looks over at Gerard, smiling. There are crinkles by his eyes that are unfamiliar but warm and comforting. “You gonna come over here?”
</p><p>
“Yeah,” Gerard breathes, drops his coat over his chair and goes to sit on his bed. His pulse is jumping under his skin like an electric current, like his hair should be standing on end.
</p><p>
“Hi,” Frank says, and pulls a stupid face, just to make Gerard laugh, which it does. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”
</p><p>
“It’s fucking… weird,” Gerard says uncertainly. “I mean, you know so much about me, and I just -- I know Frankie.”
</p><p>
“That’s still me, Gee.” It’s a little reassuring how serious Frank looks.
</p><p>
“Not just, like, I don’t only mean personality-wise.” He huffs out a breath and gestures between them. “Also, with, you know. Sex.”
</p><p>
“We don’t have to--” Frank starts, but Gerard cuts him off.
</p><p>
“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he manages to get out, even though his face is definitely burning bright red. “I just… You’re gonna be good at this. You have fuckin’ years of experience on me.”
</p><p>
“You were never, ever bad at this, Gerard,” Frank says bluntly. “I like anything you do because I like <em>you</em>, okay? And if it makes you feel better, I’ll, I don’t know, tell you what I like, but honestly, you don’t have to worry about it. Just let me take care of things. Let me take care of you.”
</p><p>
His throat dry, Gerard swallows, and he’s leaning in before he even realizes it, Frank’s hand cupping his jaw. The kiss starts off so soft that Gerard doesn’t even really need to think about it, just shifting closer on the bed, letting his hands come to rest on Frank’s chest. They make out for a few minutes, and Gerard follows Frank’s lead, mostly, slowing things down, taking his time. It’s only when Frank traps Gerard’s bottom lip between his teeth and bites down the tiniest bit, dragging it as he pulls away, that Gerard feels the heat in the bottom of his stomach, a pot on low boil, half-hard already from a handful of kisses and the heavy weight of Frank’s hand on his arm.
</p><p>
“Yeah?” Frank murmurs, their foreheads just barely touching.
</p><p>
“<em>Yeah</em>, come on,” Gerard mumbles, and pushes himself up a little bit, puts his mouth to Frank’s with some real force. To his surprise, Frank holds solid, absorbing the impact of Gerard crashing into him, but this kiss still has bite. The movement brought them closer together, and Frank catches him around the waist this time and holds him still as he licks his mouth open, their lips dragging wetly together.
</p><p>
There’s a rhythm to this not entirely unlike kissing Frankie now, just slower. It’s easy to fall into it, to be able to breathe again for a second and get some of his brain function back, and as soon as Gerard does, he tries to think what Frankie liked in the few times they’ve hooked up so far, because Frank is currently knocking it out of the park, kissing down the side of Gerard’s neck, gripping him hard enough that he can feel the dig of short fingernails. 
</p><p>
Tentatively, Gerard creeps a hand up Frank’s back, threads it into his hair, and pulls. Just a little, hardly enough to hurt.
</p><p>
Frank moans, and Gerard thinks <em>bingo</em>, or he would if he wasn’t focusing on the sound, the way it rumbles in Frank’s chest so much lower than he’s used to.
</p><p>
And then Frank’s arm is around his waist and urging Gerard into his lap, and of course he goes, his legs spreading wide to bracket Frank’s hips. It’s not really surprising when Frank puts a hand on each of his thighs and holds him down, but what is a little surprising is the way Gerard finds himself stifling a <em>whimper</em>, what the fuck. He rocks a little, involuntarily, and Frank’s grip tightens. “You wanna play dirty, baby?” Frank asks.
</p><p>
<em>Baby.</em> Jesus Christ. “Maybe I do,” Gerard gasps out.
</p><p>

Frank may be bigger but he’s still shorter than Gerard, his mouth right at the very corner of Gerard’s jaw. “Help me get my shirt off,” he says, reaching for the hem. “Back up a second,” as if Gerard could refuse, when it’s more like Frank is pushing him back, sliding him towards his knees. He yanks at the bottom of the shirt, largely unhelpfully, he’s sure, until it’s off.
</p><p>
And... fuck.
</p><p>
Frank is a work of art with legs. The sheer amount of imagery covering his skin, spanning years of life that Gerard hasn’t seen yet, is almost dizzying. Faces, words, traditional tattoo motifs, all blending on his body to create something that will be such an honor to see come together.
</p><p>
Down at the bottom of his stomach, where a trail of hair disappears into boxers and shorts, there are the familiar birds, and Gerard can’t keep himself from reaching out to touch them. Under his hands, Frank goes tense. “I know these,” Gerard says quietly. They’re different, les sharp with age and sandwiched in among other pieces, but still recognizable.
</p><p>
“Yeah. Different, huh? I mean, I have a lot more tattoos now, and the ink fades over time, and I’ve gained and lost weight a bunch, they get less visible.” Frank tilts his head to the side, his hand moving almost unconsciously, rubbing Gerard’s waist.
</p><p>
Gerard swings his leg over Frank’s, getting up fully, tracing his hands over all of the patterns, but coming back to the birds. “I wonder,” he says, and his face is bright red, God, but he wants to say it, so he will. “I wonder if they taste any different.”
</p><p>
When he looks up from under his eyelashes, he sort of expects Frank to be laughing, but instead his eyes are dark, and when Gerard touches his chest again he leans back on his elbows, slow, and exposes the ink. His head lolls back and his eyes close.
</p><p>
Gerard moves in and licks a long flat stroke from one swallow to the other. The only indication that Frank felt anything is the hiss of air from above him. He goes again, then swirls his tongue over the letters on either side, the stretch marks that sluice through the skin. It’s repetitive motion, almost soothing except for the fact that Gerard’s mouth is fucking watering with how much he wants to get Frank’s cock in his mouth right now. By the time he feels like he’s ready, the tattoos are shining and wet with spit, starting to dampen the top of Frank’s underwear band.
</p><p>
At the first touch of Gerard’s hand to his zipper, though, Frank reaches down to grab his wrist and pull it away, and Gerard makes a frustrated noise that’s way more pouty-sounding than he intended. “Motherfucker, I was about to suck your dick.”
</p><p>
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know.” Frank’s tone is fond and put-upon at the same time as he pushes himself up to settle back against the headboard. “Here.” He reaches out, and Gerard goes, climbing up onto the bed and sort of knee-walking towards him across the covers until he’s situated in Frank’s lap again, a tattooed hand on his hip like it belongs there.
</p><p>
“Open your mouth,” Frank says, with a flash of his darkened eyes again. When Gerard obliges, he slips two fingers into it, not too far, just resting on his tongue. Then he keeps talking like this is totally normal, like he isn’t using his fingers as a substitute for his dick, like it isn’t making Gerard rut up against his thigh like a fucking teenager. It works way too well; Gerard’s hollowing his cheeks around the digits and letting his tongue slide over the callouses without thinking twice about it. “Look, it’s not like I don’t wanna fuck your mouth, but there’s no way I’d last,” he says conversationally. “And I plan on fucking you and I don’t want to have to wait to be able to get it back up.”
</p><p>
Gerard only really processes about half of what he said, because Frank’s started absent-mindedly stroking his cheek with his thumb, and that tender gesture combined with what they were doing is making his mind go somewhere in outer space. He’s aware that there’s spit running down his chin, though, and he pulls off for a second to wipe himself off. “Sorry.”
</p><p>
“For what?” Frank asks.
</p><p>
He gestures to his face, and oh God, his fucking shirt too. “Spit. It’s gross.”
</p><p>
“Hey.” Frank takes the hand that Gerard had been sucking on and grips his chin with it, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough that Gerard can feel his cheeks squishing a little bit with the force of it, enough that his fucking finger strength is so patently apparent. “It’s not gross at all. I mean, you know I do that shit all the time, but also… Jesus, I don’t know. Seeing you like this for me. You’re fucking stunning, Gee.” He presses the pads of his fingertips against Gerard’s mouth again, and Gerard opens up to let them in. <em>Stunning.</em> Him, wrecked and covered in fucking drool, for God’s sake.
</p><p>
Frank leans in and starts to kiss a line along his neck again. “You’re so hot like this, you’re taking it so good.” He bends his knee a little, and Gerard hadn’t even been aware how good the friction against Frank’s thigh was until the angle changes, and it turns into him rocking against his hip instead, the soft flesh there. “You want another?” he asks, and Gerard just opens wider, feels the corners of his mouth dripping but doesn’t even care about the mess as Frank adds a third finger. He’s aching, now, and he can feel his thighs shaking from holding him up, moving him over and over again in search of more, more, more, but it feels so good, one of Frank’s hands in his mouth and the other splayed across his back.
</p><p>
It’s not until Frank takes his fingers out and wipes them on his shorts that Gerard realizes his jaw’s gone stiff. He can feel his cheeks heating up, even as Frank kisses the sensation back into his mouth, and it’s a welcome feeling when Frank’s hand comes up to cradle the back of his head, tucks Gerard’s head down, down into the crook of Frank’s neck. “Come here, baby, come here,” he says, low, kind of gravelly. “Come on.”
</p><p>
“<em>Frankie</em>,” he hears himself hitch out, breathy. And Gerad’s body takes Frank’s words as an instruction, because his hips stutter once, twice, and he’s coming, through his pants, spurred on by the warmth of Frank’s body, his erection hot and heavy against Gerard’s thigh. It’s just too much, the raw <em>feeling</em> of it, and he’s shaking as he goes over the edge, Frank’s fingers in his hair. Blood roaring in his ears is obscuring his hearing, so he can’t even tell that he’s fucking whining until he’s come most of the way down.
</p><p>
Frank is like, petting him, and it would be embarrassing if Gerard hadn’t already reached the threshold of embarrassment by blowing his load while still wearing all of his clothes. So instead he keeps a modicum of dignity by not moving his face from the intersection of Frank’s shoulder and neck. He smells good here, clean and spicy, aftershave or hair product. “I’m sorry,” Gerard says quietly. It feels really good, as much as there’s shame, to collapse against Frank, to feel him hold his weight and touch him gently like he just fell apart.
</p><p>
“Fucker, stop apologizing,” Frank says. His tone is warm, though, not commanding or rude -- as if that could ever be Frank, in any universe. He lets Gerard hide for a few more seconds before easing him back. “Come on, get your clothes off. I mean, I wanted ‘em off anyway.”
</p><p>
Gerard laughs a little through his nose, surprising himself, and scrambles backwards on the bed, fumbling with the waistband of his pajama pants before sliding them and his boxers jerkily down. Frank’s shifted behind him and helps lift his shirt over his head, then reaches down and uses it to clean the mess off Gerard. It’s a gentle touch, but the rough drag of the t-shirt against his sensitive cock still makes Gerard shiver and jolt away.
</p><p>
When he’s satisfied, Frank balls the shirt up and tosses it on the floor, in the middle of the rest of the discarded clothes, then meets Gerard’s eyes, puts a hand on the side of his neck. “You okay?”
</p><p>
“Fine,” Gerard nods. “I just -- let me make it up to you, okay? Please, come on, I wanna --” He can’t get it out, because he feels like a fucking amateur pornstar or something like this, reduced to stock dialogue by a few minutes of grinding.
</p><p>
“You wanna what?” Frank teases, but it’s light, and he’s already working his pants and underwear down and kicking them off.
</p><p>
His dick stands up against his belly, amid the hair and the tattoos that go right up to its base (<em>Jesus fucking Christ</em>, Gerard thinks helplessly), and Gerard can’t really be expected to do anything other than lick a stripe up the center of his palm and wrap his hand around it. Frank chokes on air and bucks up into the touch a little, like even with all his experience, he can’t hold back. “Oh my God,” he says, his voice suddenly tight. “You’re just -- fuck, just going for it, huh.”
</p><p>
“Fucking right I am,” Gerard says, and bites down on his tongue again, concentrating on jacking Frank hard and fast, his thumb swiping over the tip, the wet sounds it’s creating filling the room. His hand doesn’t go around his cock the whole way, but he twists his wrist and tries to cover as much as he can.
</p><p>
Frank doesn’t try to hide his moaning, the way his chest is rising and falling with every harsh breath Gerard wrings from him. He reaches around and grabs at Gerard’s hip, his ass, yanks him closer, and Gerard follows, stumbling a little on his knees but keeping his pace as best he can. Inspired, he leans in and kisses Frank’s neck, up around the side of his jaw. When he reaches his earlobe, he ghosts a few breaths along there, then bites it gently.
</p><p>
A shudder runs through Frank so hard that Gerard can feel it, and he pushes him away suddenly. “Fuck, Gee, hold on, just… God.” He laughs and looks up at the ceiling and grips his cock around the base for a second. There’s pride swelling in Gerard’s chest at the look on his face. He did that; he could still do that to this Frank.
</p><p>
“Okay,” Frank says presently, and stretches his arms in the air. “All right. Back in business.” The look he gets is one that seems like it could apply to a machine, maybe; like he’s trying to figure out what buttons to press. He probably knows all of them by now. Part of Gerard wants to look away, but he holds it steady, sets his jaw. <em>He can hold his own, he just proved that.</em>
</p><p>
“I want to eat you out,” Frank says.
</p><p>
Gerard’s brain reverts to binary code for a second, all the bravado he’d mustered up shoved unceremoniously out the window.
</p><p>
“Is that okay?” Frank is saying when the ringing fades out of Gerard’s ears.
</p><p>
“<em>Yes</em>,” Gerard replies, trying not to be totally desperate about it. He’s never had it done but fuck, he’d be lying if he said he never thought about it, and now it’s <em>all</em> he can think about, Frank’s hands on his ass, spreading him open, his tongue -- fuck, his tongue <em>inside Gerard</em>, an idea so hot it should be illegal. His stubble scratching the inside of Gerard’s thighs, at the crease where his ass meets his leg, and that’s what makes Gerard realize he’s getting hard again, not ten minutes after he came the first time.
</p><p>
Frank’s grinning that shit-eating grin, an expression that apparently never leaves him. “Turn over,” he says, and gets up to walk around to the end of the bed.
</p><p>
No need for him to say it twice. Gerard moves jerkily until he’s on his hands and knees facing the headboard. It’s not a position he’s intimately familiar with, and he feels exposed like this, but knowing that Frank is back there <em>looking</em> at him like this is like something fizzy in his stomach, through his bloodstream. “Is this good?” he says, more to the pillows and bedding than Frank, his head hanging down. It doesn’t feel like a very flattering position, and his arms are kind of shaking.
</p><p>
“Here,” Frank says, beside him instead of behind him where Gerard had expected. There’s a hand, then, in between his shoulder blades, pressing gentle but firm, and Gerard just lets himself go down until his arms are bent and folded in front of him, his chin resting on them, with his ass still in the air. If he felt exposed before…
</p><p>
Frank swears under his breath, low enough that Gerard’s not even sure he was meant to hear it. It sounds almost reverent, from under his hand, spread wide over Gerard’s back.
</p><p>
Instead of letting go to walk around the side of the bed, Frank just trails his hand along Gerard’s spine, and he can’t stop himself, he shivers at the touch, breaking out in goosebumps. “Frank,” he whispers.
</p><p>
“So good,” Frank says in reply, and the motion continues down the back of Gerard’s thigh as there’s a creak that has to be Frank leaning his elbows on the bed. Gerard covers his face and bites his lip, trying to ward off the way his cheeks flush at the words.
</p><p>
The next thing he feels is a kiss pressed to the back of his left thigh. It’s totally innocent except for the placement, but Gerard’s leg jerks so violently that he’s sure he would have kicked Frank in the face if not for the grip on his leg. “Hey,” comes Frank’s voice. “Are you okay?”
</p><p>
“I just really want it,” Gerard rushes out, before he can worry himself out of talking. “I’ve never done this before, but I want you, Frankie, I want it to be you.” The words just rush out, maybe too much now, but it’s true.
</p><p>
For a second, there’s silence, and Gerard would be worried, but Frank’s hand doesn’t move away from the back of his leg, an anchor point. “Gonna make it worth it for you,” he says, close again, and Gerard practically melts into the bed with relief when he feels the rush of air on his skin.
</p><p>
“You look -- fuck, I wish you could see,” Frank says, and it’s obscene, his breath so close it’s stirring the little hairs on Gerard’s legs. “I’m gonna eat you up, Gee,” then he’s licking along his cheek, and Gerard can’t make himself breathe until his tongue connects with Gerard’s asshole, and then he draws in this huge, shuddering breath, like he’s not even controlling his <em>lungs</em>, much less the rest of his body. It’s so hot, not even just sexy hot but temperature-wise, the warm tongue against all the nerve endings.
</p><p>
Frank starts slow, just little licks, moving his face closer and closer until his nose is actually in Gerard’s asscrack, and Gerard has never been happier about the weird urge he had to take a shower this morning. But the thought flies out of his head when Frank’s mouth is fully on him, and he makes some kind of weird, gurgling noise in the back of his throat, because holy fuck, holy <em>fuck</em>, how does everyone not do this, like, all the time?
</p><p>
The position leaves Gerard open enough that Frank doesn’t need to spread him, so he’s barely even touching him, one hand on his hip is all. His mouth is sealed over Gerard’s hole and his tongue is doing something Gerard doesn’t even have the brainpower to process beyond the way it’s making him feel. He’s fully hard again, leaking, and he’s got his eyes closed because it was just too much stimulus otherwise.
</p><p>
The prickly, almost-uncomfortable feeling of Frank’s stubble is only spurring Gerard on. Frank has to know how good it feels because he’s pressing in. Maybe there’ll be marks tomorrow, red and scratchy on the pale skin of his legs, and Gerard moans at the thought. His thighs are trembling, his hands going to pins-and-needles, but he couldn’t switch positions now. The room could be burning down around him and he’d be none the wiser.
</p><p>
Frank traces a line with his tongue all the way from behind Gerard’s balls and up, and as if that wasn’t enough, he flattens his tongue and pushes it in, oh my God, oh my <em>God</em>, he’s tonguefucking him. Gerard actually bites his fist but it doesn’t do much to stifle the way he moans so fucking filthy he can hardly believe it came out of his own mouth.
</p><p>
“Wanna hear you,” Frank says, low and ragged, and then he’s back to it before Gerard can even register the loss of a few seconds. He dips in and out, switching things up every time Gerard thinks he can find a rhythm to it, so it’s all he can do to lean back against Frank and hold himself up. When he licks a circle around the hole, Gerard takes the opportunity to catch his breath, as much as he can.
</p><p>
On the next stroke, Frank’s finger is there, just the pad pressing gently, but then it’s inside him too, the wet saliva letting it slip inside beside Frank’s tongue with no resistance. Gerard cries out, and it’s loud, not even muffled by the pillow because his mouth is totally hanging open. His back arches and his thighs just go out from under him, and Frank doesn’t miss a beat, just helps lower him down by the power of his hand on Gerard’s hips. “You okay?” he asks.
</p><p>
“Yeah,” Gerard pants. “Just. More, please, Frankie, feels s- so fucking good.” He can hear how his voice breaks halfway through, but he’s too far gone to be embarrassed as he thrusts back onto Frank’s finger. The friction against the sheets makes him gasp.
</p><p>
“Yeah, fuck, yeah,” Frank murmurs, and goes back in. Gerard spreads his legs as much as he can, and Frank holds him open with a hand, the other one with two fingers curling inside Gerard now. It’s like being surrounded, overwhelming in the best way. Gerard rocks back against Frank, then forward onto the bed, and it feels so good that he does it again and again until he’s just riding Frank’s face, humping against the covers shamelessly. He’s breathing in choppy, shuddering motions, pressing his forehead against the bed hard enough that he can feel the springs creak with every movement of his hips. And it’s slow, enough to be painful, and he needs <em>more</em>, but Frank won’t give it, sticking to his pace no matter how Gerard whines. He’s not above whining now, not after he’s already come once, not when Frank is doing this.
</p><p>
He’s dimly aware of the suggestion of an orgasm starting, curling tightly inside his belly, and he’s not sure he can make himself stop moving, so instead he chokes, “Stop, Frankie, stop, ‘m gonna come,” and says a silent thank you when Frank actually pulls off. Gerard rolls over and lets his head thud back onto the mattress and feels it dip as Frank lays down next to him.
</p><p>
“I think you were like, literally made to be eaten out like that, Gee,” Frank mumbles, turning onto his side, nosing along Gerard’s jawline, oblivious of how sweaty Gerard’s hair is or how he’s maybe harder than he’s ever been in his life.
</p><p>
Gerard agrees, and he wants to tell Frank that, wants to thank him for whatever the fuck that was and for setting an unrealistically high bar for the rest of Gerard’s life, probably, but when he opens his mouth all that comes out is, “Need you,” kind of fucked-out and needy even to his own ears, especially when he’s grinding down on Frank’s thigh the way he is. It’s an understatement; what he really means is <em>I think I might literally die if you don’t fuck me.</em> Or at least that’s how it feels.
</p><p>
“You want me to fuck you?” Frank doesn’t even blink, just urges Gerard upright slowly till they’re both sitting, still pressing feather-light kisses along his throat.
</p><p>
“Yeah,” Gerard grits out. “Fuck, yes, Frankie, inside me, please, wanna feel you come--” He’s babbling, practically, but it’s working, because Frank’s guiding him into his lap again, sitting at the head of the bed so he can lean against the headboard again, his arms around Gerard’s back. Gerard’s knees sink into the bed and it brushes their cocks together and they both groan, Gerard hearing himself go high and needy over Frank’s moan that seems to come from the base of his chest.
</p><p>
“Do I need a condom?” Frank asks, with much more self-control than Gerard has. His eyes are half-lidded but his mouth stays set and serious as he looks up. Gerard shakes his head, already biting his lip in preparation. “Are you sure you don’t want me to finger you some more, or--”
</p><p>
“Fuck, no, I wanna <em>feel</em> it.” Gerard gets up on his knees and walks closer so he bumps against Frank’s face with his belly. Frank kisses his stomach, and it’s such a small thing that twists inside Gerard’s chest, warm and familiar, a gesture he doesn’t recognize yet, but wants to so badly.
</p><p>
“Okay, slow,” Frank says, and he holds himself steady as Gerard sinks down. It is slow, almost excruciatingly so, and Gerard’s legs tremble with the effort of supporting him through it. There’s a stretch and a burn, though it’s better because of the prep and how incredibly turned on Gerard is right now. He doesn’t let himself pause, just sets his jaw and tosses his hair and keeps going until his ass is flush against Frank’s thighs. 
</p><p>
It’s been a while, and he feels so full, enough that the smallest shift sends pleasure ringing up his backbone. “You’re so <em>big</em> in me like this,” Gerard whispers, screwing his eyes shut.
</p><p>
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Frank says unevenly. “Gerard, you can’t just -- you can’t just say shit like that, fuck.” He wraps his hands around Gerard’s waist. They’re shaking a little, like he’s nervous, or more like he’s holding back.
</p><p>
“Yeah I can,” Gerard manages, and shifts forward, just once, barely even moving, but they both breathe sharply in together. Frank tilts his hips upward in response, and they exhale.
</p><p>
“Come on, come on, I’m not -- I can’t do this much longer, Gee,” Frank says. Gerard opens his eyes and sees him sweaty and mussed beneath him. His pupils are big, barely a ring of hazel visible around them, and his chin is actually wet from eating Gerard out. The sight makes Gerard rock forward, his body seeking friction, and then Frank thrusts up more surely, and then they’re moving together against the headboard. It’s slow, but when they’re like this, Gerard can feel every drag of Frank inside him.
</p><p>
He’s trying to get up higher, make there be a bigger impact when he slides back down again, but the bed is too soft, gives too much for him to really stand on it with his knees, and Frank can’t do much more than just thrust shallowly upwards thanks to the angle. Gerard makes a frustrated noise and screws his face up. He’d been letting his hands kind of float aimlessly around, helping keep him upright, or randomly gripping into his own hair, but now he uses them to brace against Frank’s chest and get a better angle. When they meet in the middle again, Frank brushes against Gerard’s prostate, and Gerard swears, though it draws out into more of a moan.
</p><p>
“C’mere, Gee, lemme…” Frank trails off, but the next move Gerard makes, he’s <em>lifting him</em> higher, oh holy fuck, then pulling him back down so his cock actually slams into Gerard, with audible sound and everything. Crying out, Gerard feels himself clench around Frank, and his hands curl into fists on his chest, his fingernails digging into his own palms.
</p><p>
It’s never felt like this before for Gerard, so intimate, every inch of his sweat-sticky skin pressed against Frank’s. Even while Frank fucks up into him as fast as they both can manage to make it go, Gerard is aware of what feels like every nerve in his body lighting up like Christmas lights, from the point where they’re joined to the tips of his fingers and toes.
</p><p>
Frank’s panting, now, and his thrusts are getting less rhythmic, but he’s keeping up a steady stream of talk. “God, you’re so, shit, so fucking good, Gerard, taking me like this, you feel amazing. I can’t, I need to --”
</p><p>
“Wanna feel you, Frankie,” Gerard says, feeling an inch away from coming himself even though he hasn’t even touched his own cock. “Inside me, come inside me, please, fuck.” He’s talking just to talk, just to get it out as he moves, jerkily down, his muscles starting to complain a little.
</p><p>
“Gonna come,” Frank says, his grip tightening, and Gerard can imagine his fingertips pressing in hard enough to make the skin go white around them.
</p><p>
“Please,” Gerard begs, and that’s what does Frank in, snapping up into Gerard a few times, his mouth falling into a perfect <em>O</em>, moaning, gorgeous. Gerard can <em>feel</em> it, a flood of warmth, and he makes a sound close to a sob as he tries to hold his position.
</p><p>
His chest still rising and falling rapidly, Frank pulls out as quick as he can once he stops trembling. “Come on, Gee, I know you’re close,” he murmurs, one hand trailing down to grab Gerard’s ass and lower him down till he’s just sitting on Frank’s thighs. Gerard’s legs cry out in relief and he lets his head come to rest on Frank’s shoulder as Frank rubs his back, gentle. “Touch yourself for me,” he says. “Feel, fuck, feel the inside of your thighs.”
</p><p>
Reaching down, Gerard does, and his fingers come away wet, sticky with Frank’s come. “Oh my God, oh my fuckin’ God,” he moans, and wraps a hand around himself. The touch is familiar, and when Frank’s other hand joins his, it’s just a cacophony, a thunderstorm in his nerves.
</p><p>
“I’d fuck you for hours if I could, know you could take it,” Frank says right next to Gerard’s ear, quiet, deep.
</p><p>
“I could,” Gerard pants. “I want it, oh shit, I want more, want you,” and he almost shies away at the sudden touch when Frank traces out around his ass, over his hip and to his inner thigh, through the mess there and back, not slowing down his pace in sync with Gerard’s own hand.
</p><p>
“You look so pretty like this,” Frank breathes. “Are you gonna come? Touching yourself, with me watching, helping?”
</p><p>
“Fuck, yeah, fuck,” Gerard chants. “Gonna come so hard for you, please, Frankie.” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, just feels it coming like a freight train, like it’s gonna bowl him over.
</p><p>
“Yeah, Gee, fuck, come on,” Frank urges, and he leans in to mouth over Gerard’s neck, and then Gerard’s just gone, coming all over their hands and up both of their chests, Frank holding him still as the sides of his vision go a little dark and his toes <em>actually</em> curl up. He can feel it everywhere, like how Frank seemed like he was everywhere around him.
</p><p>
“God, that was, you were so good,” Frank’s saying as he helps Gerard up and turns him around. Honestly, Gerard is going on autopilot, just following instructions and waiting for his head to come back from the cloud it was beamed to when he came. “So good, Gee.”
</p><p>
“Are you -- do you have to go now?” Gerard asks blurrily. He lays down against the pillow, expecting a yes, but when he reaches for Frank, he goes, lifting up the sheet to cover them both.
</p><p>
“No, I mean, I don’t think so.” Frank scratches the back of his head, reaches out, then pulls his hand back like he’s changed his mind. Finally, he leans close and kisses Gerard’s forehead, his cheek, his lips, soft. “Gonna stick around for a little, I think. I hope.”
</p><p>
“Good, ‘cause that means we can have an epic fucking nap,” Gerard mumbles. 
</p><p>
It’s kind of weird to be cuddling someone who feels so unfamiliar to him, but at the same time, he’s not really different in any way but the physical; beneath that changed exterior, it’s still Frank, Gerard’s best friend, sometimes hookup, future -- well, future <em>something</em>. That’s good enough to know for now. He makes the same kind of little contented “oof” when Gerard swings a leg over his hip as the Frank that Gerard knows now does, and his fingers feel the same carding through Gerard’s hair.
</p><p>
And Gerard’s last thought before he drifts off is that maybe he should try not to fall asleep immediately in the van, because if Frank now looks at him the same way future Frank does, he wants to stop missing it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i hope you enjoyed this ridiculous piece of self-indulgent porn. turns out my deepest desire is to see basement g completely wrecked and i think that's very valid of me personally &lt;3 if you did like it, please consider leaving a comment or kudos! they mean a ton to me and really inspire me to keep writing.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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